The MacArthur Special
by Sailorlovesong
Summary: After Sanders asks her to be more compassionate, MacArthur decides to give her a romantic surprise neither will forget. Rated T for sexual and sensual themes in last chapter. Reviews, Follows, and Faves much appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

"How long till you get that thing off, again?" MacArthur asked, propping a pillow under Sanders's crippled right arm.

"Two weeks at the least according to the doctor," Sanders replied with a sigh. Though her arm didn't hurt anymore, she couldn't wait to get rid of the arm cast; she missed the simple pleasures like being able to itch her forearm and resting on the apartment's couch without fear of not finding an amply-supportive pillow. Good thing MacArthur was always at her beck and call, a mixture of guilt and responsibility motivating her willingness to help.

"Man, that's rough. You've had that on for 5 weeks!"

"Yeah, I'm aware. It's _my_ arm that got broken remember? Plus that act I pulled while getting the ticket from the drain didn't help the healing process much." Sanders felt the couch cushion dip down as MacArthur sat beside her.

"Hey, you know I'm sorry, right?" MacArthur scratched the back of her neck. "I mean you broke my arm, and we didn't even end up winning! Sure, we got to the finale, but that doesn't—"

"The reason I broke my arm was because of your competitiveness. Winning or no winning, you could have lowered me down more gently."

Tears of guilt welled up in MacArthur's eyes. "I-I know…"

Sanders sighed, pitying her usually strong partner's vulnerable state. With her healthy hand, she pulled MacArthur's head against her shoulder, letting her shirt become soaked with translucent tears.

"I know you're sorry, but sometimes I wish you'd do something for me, and not because you think you have to." Sanders shifted her eyes to the floor. "I want you to _want_ to do something that makes me happy just because…"

MacArthur turned her head to wipe her eyes and look up at Sanders. "You…have a point about that. I guess seeing how independent and strong you've become in the last month, I've forgotten you're full of sentimental stuff underneath."

Sanders nodded. "You know me. I have a soft spot for romance."

"That's why I still don't get why you chose to stick around with me. I mean I know I'm a hot piece of woman, but I'm not exactly the romantic, fluffy type."

"True, but you have your moments. Besides, you inspired me to toughen up in the strength department. Soon, I'll have glutes stronger than yours."

"Ha! Keep dreaming, princess. This girl will always out-glute you."

"We'll see," Sanders replied, kissing MacArthur's forehead.

"Aw, shucks." MacArthur sat up again, and clasps Sanders's left hand between her palms. "Just you wait. I'm gonna do something so special for you, I'll have to change my name again. This time, you'll be calling me Queen Casanova!"

"Whatever you say…Valentina," Sanders teased with a smirk.

"Don't you start with me, princess," MacArthur teased back before stealing a long kiss from the temporarily crippled cadet.


	2. Chapter 2

_Tonight, prepare yourself for what I'm calling the MacArthur Special!_

This text sent that day filled Sanders with excitement yet nervousness while she walked home after her precinct shift. Sanders was glad that MacArthur had actually taken her request for romance to heart. However, she also knew how MacArthur becomes overzealous about things. Consequently, she couldn't help but wonder what state the apartment would be in as she opened the front door.

"Hello?" Sanders peeked from behind the doorframe. Though the apartment seemed to be in tact, it was odd that the only light in the whole apartment at this time of night was a dim glow coming from the kitchen area. After removing her boots and jacket, Sanders slowly walked in the glow's direction. As she stood in the kitchen's archway, Sanders couldn't help but let out a gasp of delightful surprise.

The mysterious glow was created by two lit scented candles resting on the island countertop. The usually bare countertop was draped in a blue tablecloth Sanders has never seen before in the house. On opposite sides of the candles was a pair of the fancy china plates Sanders used whenever her parents came over for dinner. A knife, a fork, and a wine glass were precisely organized beside each plate. However, the best aspect of the scene was MacArthur. Her flowing brunette hair was only secured with a thin black headband, and she wore black flats with a black, sleeveless, V-neck blouse and a form fitting pair of black trousers.

"Hey there, princess," MacArthur greeted with a seductive grin on her face.

"MacArthur. I…what…this is…" Sanders couldn't help sputtering. She never expected MacArthur to go to this magnitude of trouble in order to impress her. Heck, she was surprised that MacArthur even knew how to set a table, especially one for a romantic dinner date.

"I told you to prepare yourself for this. I'm not calling this the MacArthur Special for nothing." She sauntered up to Sanders, kissing her bandaged hand once she reached her.

"Gosh…I'm honestly speechless right now."

MacArthur smiled wider with pride. "Speechless is a good start. I'll take it. Oh, and before you sit down, you have to change out of those clothes of yours."

"Huh?"

"Well, I didn't make the kitchen look like a restaurant for no reason. Remember that blue dress you wore to that formal function for the police academy last year? Since you look so hot in it, I took the liberty of laying it out on your bed." Seeing the hint of concern in Sanders's eyes, MacArthur bluntly added, "Don't worry; I didn't move anything around in your closet. All I did was take the dress off the hanger."

"Okay. I'll go put it on. Promise not to start eating without me?"

"I wouldn't dream of it, princess…but seriously, don't take all night. All this surprising got me a bit starving."

 _Good old MacArthur_ , Sanders thought to herself with a smile. As soon as she entered her room, she began to strip off her cadet uniform piece by piece. It only took a few seconds to slip into the blue dress MacArthur had selected for her to wear. She had to admit MacArthur had picked a nice outfit; Sanders also adored how the dress's soft material was flowing yet still flattered every curve of her body. After combing her hair and spritzing some lavender perfume onto herself, Sanders returned to the kitchen to a patiently awaiting MacArthur.

"Yep," MacArthur said while eyeing Sanders up and down, "I _really_ love that dress on you." She took Sanders by the hand, gently twirling around to get a complete image of how the dress fit her.

"I'm glad you like it so much."

"Well, how about we start dinner going?"

Sanders nodded in agreement; she was rather famished, as well.

MacArthur pulled out one of the island bar stool and gestured Sanders to come site. After helping Sanders into her seat, she walked over to the oven and pulled out a horizontal pan covered in tin foil. Once the pan was placed on the table, she walked to the counter to get a spatula.

"Presenting MacArthur's Meat Lovers Lasagna!" MacArthur exclaimed, whipping the foil off the pan like a magician unveiling his latest trick.

Sanders sniffed the lasagna's aroma now lingering in the air. "Mmm…wait a minute. Since when did you learn how to cook?"

"I've always known how to cook. The thing is I can only really make pasta dishes. You know, lasagna, spaghetti and meatballs, fettuccini alfredo, …When you spend a lot of your childhood over your Italian grandmother's house, you tend to pick up a few things by watching her cook."

Though Sanders wished to inform MacArthur that she expected her to help prepare dinners from now on, she decided not to ruin the moment. However, she definitely made a mental note on this new discovery for future reference.

"Here; I'll take your plate." MacArthur carved a square piece out of the lasagna and served it onto Sanders's plate. She repeated the same action only with her own plate. "Would you like something to drink? I got that sangria stuff we both like."

"That sounds lovely; thank you." Sanders held up her wine glass as MacArthur untwisted the bottle's cap and poured the fruity alcohol until the glass was half full. She then sat down on the opposite side of the island, pouring herself two-thirds a glass of sangria.

"Bon a petit! Or as I like to say, dig in!"


	3. Chapter 3

Forty-five minutes later, the cadets had migrated from the kitchen to on MacArthur's bedroom. They sat beside another on her half-made, queen-sized bed, sipping some more of the sangria and digesting the filling meal they had gluttonously devoured.

"S-seriously, MacArthur, you made one of the best lasagnas I've ever had. I'll have n-no problem eating that up for the next day or two."

"I told you. Gran doesn't play around when it came to pasta, and neither do I." MacArthur took a long sip from her third glass of sangria before placing it on the nightstand. "Want me to put your glass down, too?"

"N-no, no, no. Let me fin-finish it." Sanders sloppily chugged down the quarter glass of liquid left in her glass. She noticeably began to sway a bit as she handed MacArthur her empty glass.

"Jesus, Sanders, I forgot how much of a lightweight you are. I should have stopped you after your second glass."

"No, no, no. I-I'm just peachy keen!" Sanders began to giggle and snort, slowly cuddling up to MacArthur's chest.

MacArthur wrapped her arm around her giddy partner. "Aw man, you're freaking wasted. If we were out in public, you'd definitely get written up for public intoxication."

"You know what I-I'd say if they tried?"

"That you're just tired or wobble 'cause you're bowlegged?"

"Noooope! I'd say 'Fuck the police,' and run away so fast they couldn't catch me." Sanders made a "vroom" noise before bursting out in a fit of gleeful giggles.

Though at first in shock at what Sanders had just said, MacArthur soon joined her fit of slurred laughter. "Man, I never thought that stiff collared Sanders has such a rebellious side. Don't freak out, but it's kinda hot when you get like that."

"O-oh, yeah?" Sanders pivoted her body so that she was facing MacArthur while sitting on her lap. After wrapping her hands gently around her neck, Sanders twirled a piece of Macarthur's hair between her fingers.

"Careful, Sanders. You wouldn't want to start something you can't finish." MacArthur nervously chuckled as Sanders left a small trail of kisses along her earlobe.

"Or," Sanders whispered seductively into her ear, "are you scared you won't have what it takes to _handle_ me?"

MacArthur's cheeks grew hot as goose bumps formed against her skin. She couldn't remember the last time Sanders acted so boldly. Feeling a surge of lust overcome her, she clasped her arms around Sanders's slender waist and kissed her. It didn't take long for Sanders to melt into the kiss, running her fingers through her partner's long hair as it commenced. Without warning or breaking their passionate kiss, MacArthur stood up with Sanders still wrapped around her frame and laid her down flat against her mattress. Now on top of her, she firmly fondled Sanders's breasts between her fingers, enticing moans from her lover's throat. As MacArthur moved her mouth upon Sanders's throat, Sanders began to pull up the back of MacArthur's shirt in attempt to remove it.

"Whoa there, babe," said MacArthur. She ceased kissing her fellow cadet's neck to look down at her. She noticed a droplet of sweat on her forehead and a flush of cranberry red across her dark cheeks.

"What? Don't…tell me you're getting…shy on me now." Sanders gave MacArthur a naughty grin in between pants for air.

"Yeah, right. You and I both know being shy is close to impossible for me. I just want to hear you admit something."

"Hm?"

"Say I can handle you, and we can continue fooling around."

A hint of frustration crossed Sanders's face. She was always annoyed when MacArthur put her on the spot like this, especially in this type of circumstance. It always made her feel a tinge of embarrassment. Unfortunately, Sanders knew MacArthur's stubbornness would stand firm and, more importantly, keep Sanders from the moments of pleasure she was so desperately craving.

"Y-You…can handle me," Sanders muttered while looking away from her.

"Sorry, what was that, princess?" MacArthur held her fingers under her chin, forcing Sanders to look into her eyes. MacArthur now owned the naughty grin.

"Y-you can handle me," Sanders repeated louder.

" _Whenever_ I want to?"

"Y-yeah." The redness of Sanders cheeks darkened and grew more distinct.

"And _however_ I want to?"

"Jesus, MacArthur, you're really pushing—" Sanders's complaint was drowned out by MacArthur quickly yet firmly kissing her lips.

"Answer the question, Sanders. Give me a direct answer, and I'll keep it up for you."

"…You can handle me whenever and…however you want to." Sanders let loose a surprised moan when MacArthur began grinding against her just as she finished her answer.

"Heh, that's what I thought you'd say, princess."

MacArthur returned her lips to her partner's mouth, now twirling her tongue against Sanders's. Continuing to fondle Sanders's breasts, MacArthur made her grinding rhythm increase in pace. They soon began to realize their clothes were heating them up quite quickly. Sanders ravenously unbuttoned MacArthur's blouse, unearthing her partner's fairly toned stomach and voluptuous breasts covered by a navy blue bra. She allowed MacArthur to remove her dress straps off her shoulders and pull the fabric down far enough to showcase her black strapless bra.

"Mmm.." MacArthur hummed while kissing the exposed skin of Sanders's chest. Sucking along the hem of the strapless bra, MacArthur unhinged the bra's frontal clasp with one swift motion of her fingers. As the bra upon the bed sheets, Sanders's automatic reaction was to cover herself with her hands.

"Come on, Sanders," MacArthur said while attempting to remove Sanders's arms. "It's not like we've never seen each other naked before."

Sanders looked at the floor before responding. "I know. It's just…this is the first time you paid attention to what we were doing."

"Huh? I always pay attention. I can't keep my eyes off you when we—"

"I mean, you're pacing yourself this time. Usually, you would have pounced on me and given me enough hickeys to hide by now. It's just weird that you're being so gentle…" Sanders stared in MacArthur's eyes with a hint of a smile.

Macarthur rubbed her hand against the back of her neck, a dark blush covering her cheeks. "Yeah, well...I'm just trying to please you as all. Ya know, treat you like a princess a-and all that mushy stuff you like. I-I just want you to be happy with me, ya know?" She practically sputtered the last part of that statement.

Sanders smiled wider at MacArthur's sudden compassion. She removed her hands from her breasts and wrapped them around her curvy partner. Leaving a chaste kiss on her lips, she whispered, "I've never been so happy in my life."

"Really? That's not just the wine talking?"

"Nope. I mean it." Sanders climbed off the bed and stood before MacArthur as she carefully and sensually removed the rest of her clothing. Once completely nude, she sat herself back into MacArthur's lap. "Now, why don't you keep on making me really happy?"

Awestruck by the short striptease she had just received by the one she loved, MacArthur smirked at Sanders's flirtatious suggestion. Leaning forward and pulling Sanders close to her own body, she deeply kissed her lover for a matter of minutes. MacArthur, once again, gently laid Sanders on her back before positioning herself on top of her.

Just before continuing to make love to the naked beauty before her, MacArthur kissed Sanders's ear and seductively whispered on final phrase:

"Anything you say, princess."


End file.
